


The Island

by grahamdireland



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: AU, F/M, Stranded AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 08:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2144130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grahamdireland/pseuds/grahamdireland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malia wakes up to find herself stranded on an island with no memory of the past few days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

She opened her eyes to the bright shine of the sun, instantly feeling a pain in her lower arm.  
She groaned, feeling too tired and sore to stand up, trying to remember what happened.   
The pack had planned to go to Europe to visit Isaac and Jackson, she remembered packing her suitcase with Stiles, not sure why she even had to go. It wasn't like she had ever met either of them. But still, she couldn't bear to not be around Stiles for two weeks, so she went. The last thing she remembered was going to sleep the night before, wrapped around Stiles, after that it was all black.  
"Malia? MALIA?" she heard shouting, coming from her left side, or was it her right. She was too disorientated to tell, plus the sun blinding her didn't help.   
Just as she shut her eyes, she felt a shadow wash over her, blcoking out the rays of the sun.  
"Malia!" Stiles said, leaning over her body, letting out a sigh of relief.  
"S..Stiles?" Malia asked, scared by how hoarse her voice was.   
"Oh, thank god your okay!" Stiles said, bringing her in for a hug. Malia winced at the sudden pain in her arm, Stiles quickly pulling away as to not hurt her anymore.  
"What is it?" he asked, looking over her protectively. Malia dropped her gaze to her right arm, not seeing any bruises or scratches.   
"I think it's broken." she replied, nodding at her arm.  
"Okay, that should heal in a while, right?" Stiles asked, helping her stand up.   
As she looked at her surroundings, she grew more and more confused.  
"Where are we?" she asked, looking at the endless green in front of her. Trees covered them in every direction, the only opening being above them, were the sun had managed to shine through.  
"You don't remember?" Stiles asked, shock coming over him.  
"Remember what? The last thing I remember is falling asleep the night before our flight. Why, what day is it?" she asked, wondering just how much of her past she was missing.  
"The flight happened three days ago." Stiles said, gently rubbing her cheek.   
"So, we're in Europe?" Malia asked, yet again taking in her surroundings.  
"Kind of. The plane crash landed."   
Malia flund her head back to look Stiles in the eye, looking at him for signs of his usual jokes. She couldn't find any. But how could she possibly be missing such a big memory?  
"Crashed? Did everyone die?" Malia asked, gulping at the thought.  
"No one we know, the pack survived. Along with some others." Stiles said, looking at her strangely.  
"Who are the others?" Malia asked, skeptical of having strangers around.  
"Just some other people from the flight, don't worry, there not evil." Stiles said, smirking to try brighten the mood.  
"Where is everyone?" she asked, only now noticing that she couldn't hear any voices around them.  
"They're out looking for you. You scared us all." Stiles said, looking serious again.  
"How? What did I do?" Malia asked, getting frustrated at having no memory.  
Stiles averted her gaze, gluping, as he decided it might she might be better off without any memory of the past couple of days.  
"Nothing that you need to worry about." he said, taking her left hand as he started to walk back to the camp, a confused Malia behind him.  
***********************************  
"She's back!" Scott said, as the two walked into the camp.  
Stiles gave Scott a weird look that Malia wasn't sure about what it meant, but she shrugged it off, figuring alot has probably changed since the past few days.  
Taking a look around the camp, she realized it wasn't much. It was mainly just an open area, with a makeshift bamboo fence surrounding it, which Malia guessed was to keep out animals, even though it looked like a mouse could take it down. Makeshift beds were strewn around the camp, made from various supplies had survived from the crash. A suitcase was beside each bed, marking the owner, even though everything seemed equally bad.  
"She doesn't remember.... any of this." Stiles said, speaking slowly.  
"Malia!" a young boy called out, wrapping his arms around her waist. Malia tensed instinctively. Even though she had only met him, she still felt some form of connection to him, like she had met him before. "Malia?" the boy said, confused as to why she was acting strange.  
"Um, Miles, maybe you should go find the rest of the group, let them now Malia's back." Stiles said, rubbing the boy's head as he ran off excitedly into the forest.  
"Who was that?" Malia asked, not having moved a muscle since the boy hugged her.  
"His name in Miles." Scott chimed in, not wanting to give too much information about the past few days away. They hadn't been good for anyone, Malia espicially.  
"His parents died in the crash, but he's a strong kid." Stiles said, almost sounding proud.   
"What's going on?" Malia demanded, "Why can I not remember anything?"  
"We don't know.. you were out getting.. water before we heard a scream and went to check on you." Stiles said, giving Scott the same look as before.   
Malia, the pain in her arm now subsiding as her coyote healing kicked in, wandered around the camp, looking at the things that should have been familiar, but weren't.   
She went around to each bed, until she came to the one with a suitcase with the label "Malia Tate" beside it. She sat on the bed, looking around her to try to jog her memories, although she couldn't remember anything, just a dull sense that she's been here before.  
"Hey, you could use some rest. This must be alot to take in, what with finding out you were in a plane crash and are now stranded on an island." Stiles said, trying to lighten the situation up with humour.  
At the mention of rest, Malia's eyelids grew heavy, pulling her into the darkness. All she could do was lie down on the uncomfortable bed, and succumb to the darkness.


	2. 2

"It's been four days, why haven't we heard anything from them?" Mrs. McCall said, looking into the Sheriff's eyes.   
"Maybe their phones don't work in Europe." the Sheriff said, sorting through some paperwork.   
"No, Scott would have found a way to contact me, somethings wrong." she replied, starting to pace around the Sheriff's office.  
"Okay, I'll make a call to the plane company and ask about the flight, you can call the hotel and see if they checked in." the Sheriff said, letting out a sigh.  
*************  
Malia was running through the jungle at top speed, tears streaming down her face. She wanted to stop, needed to stop, but she had to get as far away from the camp as she could.  
She didn't want to believe it. Couldn't believe he could lie about it.  
Her world felt like it was coming apart, all the events of the past few days jumbling into one, making it hard for her to breath. She could feel it happening again, that pull. The same one she felt the night she first turned. She felt like running off into the woods and never coming back.

She awoke with a gasp, not quite sure what she had witnessed. It was a dream, or nightmare most likely, although it seemed to vivid to have been her imagination.   
She felt a heartbeat under her arm and realized Stiles had gotten into his normal position, Malia's arm draped over his chest, her legs tangled with his. It was still night time and everyone else was still asleep, snoring away.   
Malia sniffed, making sure all of the pack was there. She managed to catch a few extra scents, most likely the new people who had been in the plane crash. She managed to sniff out everyone in the group but one.   
She carefully pulled her arm away from Stiles' chest, and silently got up off the bed.   
She sniffed again, trying to single out the red head's scent, trying to locate where she was.  
She caught the scent, and followed it down a trail that led off to the side. As she got further down the trail, it started to disappear, becoming overgrown with shrubs and trees.   
"Lydia?" Malia asked, seeing the redhead bent over a small pond, that almost looked man made.  
The petite red head jumped at the voice, whirling around to see Malia, looking worried.  
"Malia. Welcome back." Lydia replied, standing up and stepping away from the pond.  
"What were you doing?" Malia asked, eyeing the pond suspiciously. The night was silent other than the distant snores of the pack, Stiles being the loudest.  
"I just couldn't sleep, nothing to worry about." Lydia said, grabbing Malia's arm and walking back to camp.  
"What was that pond back there?" Malia asked, hesitantly walking with Lydia.  
"Nothing, just a pond." she replied. The two walked in silence until they reached the camp and parted for their own beds.  
Once on the bed, Malia wrapped herself around Stiles again, breathing in his scent, before slowly drifting back to sleep.  
*************  
"Your back!" Derek said, sounding surprised as he stood in the doorway to his loft.  
"That surprised, huh?" Braeden responded, pulling him into a deep kiss.   
"I thought you said you couldn't stay, that you had a job somewhere else." Derek said, walking back into the loft with her.  
"That was until I got a call from the Sheriff saying he needs me to track down a crashed plane." Braeden said, clearing the table in the loft so she could open up a laptop.  
"The one Scott's pack was on?" Derek asked, still in shock ever since he got a call from the Sheriff. Everyone was frantic, searching for any possible way to tell if they had somehow survived. So far, the only lead they had was Peter, who said he still felt the link to Scott that was made when he bit him, meaning he wasn't dead. As for the rest of the pack, no one could tell.  
"Yes, although it seems pretty useless tracking down a bunch of dead bodies." Braeden murmured, typing in a tracking code onto the laptop.  
"They might not be dead." Derek added, bringing his thumg to his mouth, chewing on it absent-mindedly.  
"They most likely aren't alive either."   
"If you think it's a waste of time, then why did you take this up? Surely you have other things you could do." Derek said, slightly annoyed at her pessimism.  
"So I could see you again," Braeden said matter-of-factly, typing the plane's info into the laptop, "I wasn't looking to be some one night stand."  
A small smile tugged at Derek's lips as he leaned over her shoulder, looking at the small screen as a map was lit up.  
"The plane is somewhere in this area." Braeden said, highlighting a cluster of islands near the coast of England.  
"How are we going to find them? Unless we searched every island which could take weeks." Derek said, thinking of how little food the pack may have.   
"I guess we have to search all the islands." Braeden said, taking a phone out of her pocket and dialing a number.  
"What are you doing?" Derek asked, just as the person on the other line picked up. Braeden walked into another room, leaving Derek's question unanswered.  
She came back a few minutes later, Derek leaning against the table, waiting for her to return.  
"Well, we've got a ride to the islands, now all we need are supplies." Braeden said, tossing Derek the phone as she went over to his closet, rummaging through it to find a suitcase.  
************  
The screams pierced the camp, making some nearby birds fly away from their nests.  
Malia shot up, looking around for the source of the noise, finding it was coming from the small boy from yesterday, Miles.   
Stiles had woken up to and was already rushing to the boy's side, trying to calm him down.  
He eventually calmed the boy down enough that everyone could get back to sleep, Stiles now sitting on the side of the Miles' bed as he drifted off to sleep. When the kid was finally asleep, Stiles got up and walked back over to Malia, who was still staring at the boy in shock.  
What had just happened, and why was no one else taking any notice of it.  
"What just happened?" Malia whispered to Stiles, not wanting to wake the boy again.  
"Miles has these nightmares, pretty much every night. His parents died in the crash, so it's been hard for him." Stiles said, sitting beside Malia.  
"Why were you the one to make him feel better?" Malia asked, confused why it was Stiles and not Scott, who normally would have handled situtations like that.   
"Because the kid sees me as like an older brother I guess. You two were pretty close too before the.. um, accident." Stiles said, scratching the back of his neck. Malia suddenly felt guilty for not remembering the boy, even though it was not her fault. She thought pack to the day before, at how hurt the boy looked when she had acted like she didn't know him.   
"Hey, come on, we should get back to sleep now, it's going to be a long day tomorrow." Stiles said, gently pushing Malia onto the bed and pulling her arm over his chest.


End file.
